The Legate and The Stormblade
by The Cowgirl Bookworm
Summary: Renita and Eira, friends from childhood, find each other on differing sides of the Civil War. One Dragonborn, the other not. One of the Empire, one of Skyrim. But what will they do when they are forced to face each other? Will they fight, or will they make peace? They could end the Civil War, their own war between themselves. And the bards shall sing. Tullius/OC Ulfric/OC
1. Renita: Helgen

Renita Tertulla stood at attention as the wagons were drawn into Helgen. The horses who drew them were tired, sweat foaming beneath the well worked leather of the harnesses. But they labored their load through, no doubt looking forward to the oats that awaited them. She shifted her gaze as the horses passed, up to the occupants of the wagons. Stormcloaks the lot of them. All in whatever patchwork armor they could come up with, the only thing tying them together as some sort of group was a blue sash. Seeing them made her glad for the sturdy Imperial uniform that all Legionaires were issued. Any man who looked at an approaching Imperial army would see a horde of soldiers in their leathers and officers in their steel, bound together in their cause by both loyalty and honor.

The uniform just enforced that idea.

She watched as Opimia Caesonia, the Captain of Helgen Keep, approached the line of Stormcloaks, the scribe Hadvar at her side. She couldn't tell much from where she was stationed, but when Captain Opimia read the next name, she knew. Down to her bones she knew.

"Eira Bodilsdaughter of Shor's Stone." The Captain called out in a clear voice that could be heard even from the gates. Renita glanced to the side, noticing that the other guards had edged closer to the block before one of the towers. She followed them, glancing at the group of Stormcloaks. Eira stood there, bold as day. Even if she was surrounded by Nords, Renita would have known Eira.

"Eira." She hissed, taking up a post by one of the wagons. She saw her head twitch, but she remained impassive. "Eira!"

Her head snapped around as she fixed her with that withering gaze she knew all to well. "Come to sneer at my death, Imperial?"

"Eira, it's me! Renita!" She said as she drew off the leather helmet that always mashed her hair close to her head. "Remember?"

"By the Nine." Eira breathed. "You went to the Legion?"

"And you went to the Stormcloaks?"

Renita watched as a mask drew over Eira's face, a cold impassive person now instead of the bubbly girl she had been. "I am a daughter of Skyrim. You outsiders don't belong here. Skyrim is for the Nords."

She almost flinched at that. _That's not Eira. That's some Stormcloak talking. Eira, remember Eira. _Her mind brought up memories, the way they had wrestled back around Shor's Stone, how they had always been side by side. Eira was the one who would come drag Renita away from a book to gawk at the visiting farmer's son. Renita was the one who would talk Eira out of challenging a Frostbite Spider with only her fists. "You don't mean that. Eira, I could get you out of this!"

A flicker of recognition passed through her eyes. "A Stormcloak faces death without fear, like a true Nord. Imperial milkdrinkers want to get away from it." Eira turned to watch the beheading of one of the Stormcloaks. "Sovngarde is waiting." The man's head rolled off, dropping with a sickening thud into the basket below the block. Opimia kicked the headless body away, motioning for the next one. Eira gladly took the chance, walking towards the block.

"Eira, please!" Renita called, shoving aside the other Stormcloaks gathered around. She had just managed to get close when she heard the noise. It was like a nail being drawn down a rock, only a hundred times louder. Her hair stood on end, and she wanted to run, as far away as she could.

"Soldier! Get back to your post!" Opimia ordered, shoving Eira down before the block. It took all of Renita's strength to not obey the order. All that the Legion had put into her was telling to report back to the gate, and watch as Eira died. But she held tight to the memories of their childhood in Shor's Stone, and her heart won out over tore obedience.

At least until that thing landed atop the tower.

Tullius shouted from his horse. "What in Oblivion is that?"

"Dragon!" A panicked sentry screamed. A Stormcloak echoed his cry as the dragon roared. Suddenly the clear day that had been was now filled with storm clouds, sickly red looking. Renita felt her stomach churn as the dragon fixed her with a gaze. It was as old as time itself, as black as a starless night. Horns and scales, flesh and sinew. This was a legend made real. Its gaze moved from her to Eira, then back. It opened its mouth, and through some instinct she just knew what was going to happen.

Renita dove towards Eira, knocking her out of the way as a gout of flame rushed behind her. Eira seemed slow to get to her feet, but ran just as quick as she always had. Renita watched her leave, following the other prisoners into one of the towers. Tulius shouted orders from his panicking charger, the Thalmor agents that had been with him before, gone. "Don't just stand there! Kill that thing! Guards! Get the townspeople to safety!"

She was thankful for the Legion training now. She ran past the tower that Eira had entered, past the burning inn. Hadvar had already managed to find a couple civilians, but was having trouble coaxing a boy out of the way. Renita picked him up in one arm, the other drawing her sword. The dragon set down again, ready to flame. "Renita! Torolf! Everyone get back!" She dove behind a burning house with a villager, feeling the heat behind her. Glancing back towards the inn, she saw Eira stumble out. Hadvar looked up. "Still alive prisoner? Stick with me if you want to stay that way."

Eira coughed, but made no other motion to run. Renita gave the boy to the villager, then grabbed Eira's shoulder. "We have to get out of here!"

Hadvar fairly growled. "We need to find General Tullius and join the defense!"

Renita was just about to reply when Eira shoved herself away and out of her grip. "I'm getting out of here. You want to get killed by a dragon, go right ahead!"

She watched her leave. "What happened to Sovngarde, huh?!" She shouted, running after her, barely avoiding of one of the dragon's wings as it landed atop a building. "Aren't you a true Nord?" But Eira had vanished, amid the smoke and the fire. Renita could feel tears pricking at her eyes, ruining the red warpaint she had worked so hard on. She and Hadvar ran past a series of archers and mages, firing arrows and spells at the dragon to keep its attention. They finally reached the Keep, the only real place of protection in Helgen.

Hadvar yelled at the Stormcloaks in front of the door, directing most of his anger toward the man leading the group. "Ralof, you damned traitor! Out of my way!" Renita could see Eira in the group, her hands unbound and a war axe in her hand.

"We're escaping Hadvar. And you're not stopping us this time!" Ralof taunted, running into the Keep at the head of his Stormcloaks.

Hadvar shouted at the closed door. "Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!" She ran to another entrance, holding the door open as Hadvar ran in, just before the dragon settled down outside.

It was quiet inside the Keep, and she had no idea where Hadvar was taking her. All she could figure was down, down and down. Sometimes there'd be Stormcloaks, and her blade was wet by the end of their journey. But finally, they seemed to reach some tunnel that ran under the Keep. Hadvar was just warning her about a bear he had spotted up ahead when there was a loud racket behind them. Ralof and Eira, axes drawn, had followed them it seemed. Eira took one look at the bear, and charged in.

"Stupid!" Renita hissed, drawing her bow from her back. The bear lashed its head around as she peppered it with arrows, biting at Eira when she drew to close. Renita replaced her bow, drew her sword and charged. Between the two of them, it didn't stand much of a chance. They still fought as a team, Renita dancing away and leaving blows to distract it while Eira hammered relentlessly at it with her war axe.

No words were needed as they stood over the cooling corpse. Renita tossed Eira her war axe, Eira returned some arrows she had pulled from the bear. _We're not enemies, just people with a common goal. Live, get out of here alive. Not at each other's throats, for now.__  
_

Side by side, they followed Hadvar and Ralof outside, into the warm sunshine and cool breeze. The road to Riverwood would run quick beneath their feet, and with it, the news of an event so large that the land itself would quake with it.

Behind them, Helgen smoldered, a dragon shouting its return to empty skies.


	2. Eira: Whiterun

Apparently both Hadvar and Ralof had family in Riverwood. And it just so happened that both of their families wanted the exact same thing. For someone to go to Whiterun and warn the Jarl that there were dragons flying around. Eira wanted to grind her teeth. _I'm not some courier, I'm a Stormcloak! I fight, I kill those sniveling Imperials. I don't run messages._

"I will gladly inform Jarl Balgruuf." Renita said, that milk-drinker. "In fact, I should probably head to Whiterun anyway. Some of the garrison may have made it out of Helgen. It would be for the best for me to report back in." Eira watched her smile at Hadvar, brushing her back hair behind her ears. She had started braiding it back, and if it weren't for her size and somewhat pale coloring, Eira could have called her a Nord. But one of those noblemen she saw sometimes.

No self-respecting Nord could have a face so small and thin.

"I will speak to the Jarl." Eira growled, "No doubt he will want to hear how the Imperials ran from the dragon like scared little girls." She started off down the road, not even waiting for Renita to start after her. But she could hear her coming all the same, the chainmail on the back of her armor jingling merrily. And no doubt warning every bandit for miles. Her own armor was hidden beneath her quilted shirt, muffled.

Renita finally fell in step behind her. "You Stormcloaks were the ones who ran. We were protecting the townspeople. Following orders." Eira didn't respond, merely focused on walking. All she could see was Skyrim, the trees and tundra spread out before her. A walled city rose from the plains, able to see anything that came for miles. Roads from every direction made their war to it, all of them converging at the front gate and stables before it. This was the city that Ulfric wanted. This was the city that needed to know how much the Stormcloaks were fighting for.

This was the city she would bring him.

"Holy shit!" Renita cursed from beside her, drawing her sword. Eira almost grinned at that. This was the girl who had almost smacked her after she had called some piss-poor boy a dick for trying to cut her purse. _Guess the Legion taught her something._ Eira followed her gaze to what had to be three different warriors taking on a giant. The massive humanoid was laying about with its club, but the warriors danced around. One, a woman as far as she could tell, was standing away, shooting arrows at the thing. The other two were different in their fighting styles. One was bloodthirsty, running forward so much she put herself in danger. The other, a man, would come forward and draw the giant's attention, letting the woman slip away.

And then Renita ran into the fray.

"For the Emperor!" She screamed as she ran towards the giant, hacking at a leg with her sword and blocking the giant's hand with her shield. Eira drew her war axes, running forward to get her own share of the glory. She lifted an axe and severed a tendon in the giant's leg, sending it down to one knee. One of the previous warriors stabbed up through the creatures throat, ending its life in a spray of blood.

The archer walked over, her bow on her back. "You two handle yourselves well."

Eira smirked. "Taking down a giant? That was nothing."

"Thank you. Who exactly are you, anyway?" Renita replied, giving a slight bow of her head in thanks.

"The Companions, a group of warriors. If you two are headed to Whiterun, stop by Jorrvaskr. The Harbinger might be willing to take you on." The woman said. "As for us, I'm Aela, that's Farkas, and Ria. Our newest." The warriors she gestured to were a large Nord man, and a smaller Imperial woman. Eira watched as they walked away. _Hmph, if they let Imperials join up then I'm not interested. Probably have all sorts of scum in there, grey-skins, Redguards. They should be Nords, we're the best warriors._

Renita seemed not to notice her thoughts, instead wiping her Imperial sword on the grass and sheathing it. "Come on, we can't have them closing the gates on us." With that she set off down the road at a jog, leaving Eira to follow her. They passed the stables, where horses whinnied at them as they went by. The way up to Whiterun was a meandering path, protected by walls and watchtowers. As they crossed a river, spanned by a drawbridge, Eira had to give Balgruuf credit. _That wood is seasoned, solid. It would hold up well under a ram. And any army invading would have a __hard time getting past the watchtowers. They'd be like sheep in a slaughter house with archers on those walls._

No wonder Ulfric wanted the place. If he would take Whiterun, than he could take any city.

She almost ran into the back of Renita at the gates to the city. Two guards, their faces hidden behind the masks of their helmets, had stepped forward to stop her. "Halt! the city's closed with dragon's about. Official business only."

Renita thumped her hand over her chest. "I have news from Helgen about the dragon attack. Jarl Balgruuf needs to hear this." The guard seemed mollified, standing aside and allowing Renita to open the gate. She turned back to Eira. "Are you coming?"

Resisting the urge to snap at her, Eira stepped inside. Whiterun was a large city, and she could see al sorts walking around. A man in Imperial armor was arguing the the blacksmith about a delivery of swords, while her husband watch from the door of the shop. Further on she noticed a bard flirting with a merchant, but she seemed to have little time for him. And still, they went on. The passed by the Gildergreen, the symbol of Kynareth. Eira had been so consumed with her love of Talos that she had neglected her prayers to the other Divines. It hurt to see the tree like this, withered and brown. An orange and yellowed robed priestess stood before it, head bowed in prayer.

What drew her attention though, was the statue further on.

A bearded priest stood before it, crying out a sermon in front of the hammer shaped altar. Behind that rose a statue of a man, his feet holding down a dragon while his sword pierced its neck. His face was stern, but the sculptor had given him laugh lines around his mouth, and the stone hands seemed able to comfort and kill equally. This was the man who had become a god, the reason she fought.

This was Talos.

"Aren't you supposed to spit on it?" Eira taunted Renita as she walked past it. "That's what you Imperials wanted, isn't it?"

Renita was already halfway up the steps to Dragonsreach before she responded. "That's what the Thalmor want. Not the Empire." Eira just walked, letting her anger stew. _After we talk to Balgruuf, I'm going to kill her. Right there on the steps._

Dragonsreach was huge, a massive fire pit was stretched downt eh hall, feasting tables to either side. But in front of it all, beneath the skull of the dragon Numinex, reigned Balgruuf the Greater. The Nord lounged in his throne, one hand supporting his chin and the other one on the arm of his throne. He and his steward were discussing something in hushed tones, which was broken by a Dark Elf running towards them "What's the meaning of this interruption?" She demanded, "Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors."

Renita stepped forward, "We have news from Helgen, about the dragon attack."

That seemed to draw the Jarl's attention.

"You two were at Helgen?" He asked. "You saw this dragon with your own eyes?"

Eira snorted. "Yes, I had a wonderful view as the Imperials were trying to cut off my head."

"Please, ignore her Jarl." Renita said. "The dragon destroyed Helgen, and last I saw it was headed this way."

"By Ysmir, Irileth was right." He cursed. He then glanced at the two of them. "And let me guess General Tullius and Jarl Ulfric want me to come to a decision now? Well tell them no! I will not let my city go to war when there is a dragon about!" Eira jerked back in surprise. The man was a Nord and he didn't want to support the Stormcloaks? Something was wrong here. "Get out!"

"Excuse me, Jarl?" A timid voice asked. "Can they help with my project?"

Balgruuf snorted. "Go ahead Farengar, I doubt either of them'll budge."

Farengar, who Eira guessed was the court wizard, began explaining about some stone in Bleak Falls Barrow. Some weird carving that detailed dragon burials. Eira could have cared less, but Renita seemed enthralled. She was already agreeing to go and get it by the time he had finished speaking. Eira watched her leave, then followed her out. And there, right before the Gildergreen and Talos, she gave her a good, solid right hook to the back of her head.

Her axes were already in her hands by the time Renita registered what had happened. Eira stumbled as the Imperial threw herself down, then rolled to the side and drew her sword. Her shield was up and she looked ready to fight. They traded blow back and forth, and Eira slowly chipped away at her shield. She put all of her hate into it. The hate for denying Talos, the hate for Skyrim being under the Empire's thumb.

The hate for Renita leaving her all alone in Shor's Stone.

Then she suddenly felt a pair of arms around her waist, drawing her up and a pair of hands grabbing her arms. She squealed, trying to get at that cowardly Imperial. Then she saw that Renita had been grabbed by someone else, one of the warriors they had met earlier. Whoever was holding her pulled her in the opposite way, drawing her back up to Dragonsreach. the next thing she knew she was in a cell, watching as her axes were placed away in a chest.

Eira screamed, pounding the floor with her hands until they bled.

* * *

**AN: Thank you all for reading this! Please, leave a review! And things will start picking up here soon, just like the game the story will take a little longer to get rolling.**


	3. Renita: Jorrvaskr

Renita tried to yank her arms out of the warrior's grasp, her shield hitting his side. But he didn't seem to mind, almost laughing at her efforts. Being hauled backwards wasn't very fun, and she could only hear a door open before she was hauled through it. As it shut, the warrior let go. Renita dropped to the ground, scrambling to get back on her feet. She heard a booming voice, "Aela! It's our little friend from Pelagia Farm!"

"Farkas! Get her up, she's not some whelp you can just throw around like you please." She heard the archer's voice, which was followed by loud laughter. "Well, not yet." A strong hand clamped down on Renita's shoulder, pulling her up by her cuirass. She looked around. It was hard to make out anything, the smoke from a massive fire pit slowly finding its way up and out. But she could smell roasting meat, hear the fat hissing as it dripped on the coals. Her eyes adjusted, and she was finally able to make out the place. Tables surrounded the pit, piled with more food and drink than she could hope to eat. She could make out a few figures gathered around, drinking mead and wine happily.

"If you think so Aela." Farkas said, striding over by the woman. "Most whelps have more sense than to start fighting right in front of Dragonsreach."

Renita spat a bloody glob into her hand. "It wasn't like I asked for that." She looked around, then back to the woman. "I take it this is Jorrvaskr?"

"Mead hall of the Companions." Aela said, walking up. "I hope you don't mind us dragging you in here. You were getting your ass handed to you pretty well."

"My ass is my own business." Renita grumbled. "I was waiting for her to tire. I didn't want to kill her."

"You still have a lot to learn, Imperial." Aela almost laughed at her. "Speak to Kodlak down below, and if he says you're in, we might be able to keep you alive."

Renita made to walk out, but Aela grabbed her bow, pulling her back. "I would love to speak to Kodlak, but I have an errand to run for Farengar. Some stone in some barrow. So if you would kindly let go." She tried jerking herself out of the Companion's reach, but Aela pulled her flat on her back.

"No way am I letting you walk into a Nordic ruin without teaching you something. The way you are, you'd get killed by some Dragr or even a Skeever. Not to mention bandits."

"I know how to fight!"

"No, you know the Imperial way. The Legion way. You fight as a team, with five thousand more waiting to back you up. You're going to learn how to fight like a Nord." Aela shoved her towards some stairs. "Now go talk to Kodlak."

The way downstairs passed by some sort of mount, a few pieces of metal held in place. Renita glanced at them, unsure of exactly what they were. Whatever they were, there was some enchantment on them, the magic coming off of it like heat from a flame. She placed the thought at the back of her mind, making her way down through the corridors of Jorrvaskr's lower chambers. Finally she arrived outside one, a lone voice speaking.

"I can still feel it, Kodlak. The call of the blood."

She remained quiet, crouching down outside the door. The reply was hushed, and she could hear the conversation continue for a few minutes, before it subsided into silence. Renita stood, squared her shoulders, and cast a slight healing spell to help close any cuts and fade any bruises she may have acquired. She stepped inside, coming to a stop just before this Kodlak. He was older, dressed in an armor made of fur and leathers, and seemed to exude respect. This man was a leader, one who could get things done. Renita bowed her head to him, then spoke. "Aela wished for me to speak with you, about joining the Companions."

"Would you now?" Kodlak asked. Renita stepped back as he rose to his feet, lifting her head as he placed his fingers under her chin. "Here, let me have a look at you." Renita could almost feel like he was staring into her soul, measuring her. "Hmm, yes. Perhaps. A certain strength of spirit."

"Master!" The other man yelped, getting to his feet. Renita looked at him, cocking her head slightly. She could have sworn she left Farkas up above. "You're not truly considering accepting her?"

"I am nobody's master, Vilkas. And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts." Kodlak replied. "Your name, girl?"

"Renita Tertulla, sir." She snapped her heels together and bowed her head again.

Kodlak chuckled, "At ease, legionnaire."

"Apologies. But perhaps this isn't the time. I've never even heard of this outsider." Vilkas protested from his spot at Kodlak's side.

"Sometimes the famous come to us. Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame. It makes no difference. What matters is their heart."

"And their arm." Vilkas' tone was surly, but Kodlak seemed unconcerned.

"Of course, how are you in battle Renita?" Kodlak asked.

Renita wanted to bite her tongue, because truth be told, Aela was right. The Legion didn't teach much on single combat, but more on maneuvers and fighting as a team. "I can shoot a bow, hold a shield and swing a sword. But I have much to learn about fighting by myself."

Kodlak smiled slightly. "An honest answer. Vilkas, take her out to he yard and start her training. By the end of the week, we may just have you able to hold your own." Vilkas rose, motioning for her to follow. Renita did, remembering where the beds were, who she would be rooming with for the time being, and exactly how to get around this place. Finally, Vilkas arrived at the doors to the yard. He opened them, startling a Dark Elf who was happily eating outside.

"Damn twin." The Dunmer cursed, returning to his meal. Vilkas made his way to the yard, really just a clear patch of land between the mead hall and the wall that had been supplied with training dummies.

"Old man said to have a look at you, so swing away." He grunted, drawing a sword and shield. "Don't worry, I can take it." Renita drew her sword, brought her shield up, and charged. Vilkas brought his arm around, punching her in the side as she tried to get at him. She stumbled back, raising her shield above her head. He moved quickly, each move designed to deal with whatever she brought at him. Finally, covered in bruises she sat on the ground, defeated. Vilkas sheathed his sword. "Not the best, but we can help. For now though, you're going to join us in what the Companions do best besides fight."

Renita looked at the hand he offered to help her up. "What's that?"

"Drink! We haven't destroyed the Bannered Mare once this month. That needs to be fixed."

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**AN: Can somebody please review? I just want to know you're out there!**


	4. Eira: Dragonsreach Dungeon

The first few days had been torture. She had paced her cell, trying to run whenever the guards opened it to slip her food or empty the bucket she had been allotted to relieve herself in. Finally their Captain had come around, explaining that she was only there until the end of the week. Truth be told, the cells weren't all that bad. The guards had no issue with the prisoners speaking to each other, but the few times Eira had tried to bring up the Stormcloaks she had suddenly found her cell door being beaten on with a club. She had barely snatched her fingers back before it had started.

So now she just spoke to the Alik'r warrior who had been placed across from her. He was more than happy to talk about the woman from Hammerfell they had been chasing, and she promised to help find her when she got out. It was one night, after the guards had drunk a lot more mead than they usually did, that she heard the voice. It was male, coming from one of the cells farther away. "You said you're a Stormcloak?"

"What of it?" She called back, scooting to the door.

"Why? Why join the Stormcloaks?"

Eira sat for a moment thinking. "Because I love this land. Her people, her towns and forests and everything. I don't like seeing the Empire come in and force us to follow what they say. We should be able to govern ourselves."

"Was High King Torygg doing such a bad job?"

Eira bit her tongue, she couldn't even remember High King Torygg. All she had known was how Ulfric, her hero, had called on all Nords afterwards to joing him against the corrupt and dying Empire. She had answered the call, sworn her oath before the altar of Talos in Windhelm, and been loyal ever since. "I do not know."

"He let the Thalmor in, was that the problem?"

"Well, maybe. Those damn elves think they rule the Empire."

"Better they come in and believe they have power, than to have them actually rule." The man said. "The Empire can last against them, now. But before, the Empire would have been destroyed."

"That doesn't mean we can just let them take over us." She stated bitterly. "Those elves take everyone away, any person they find who might be a Talos worshipper. It would have been better to expel them entirely, rather than let them break the Empire apart from the inside."

There was silence.

"Would you have died, along with the rest of the Legions, to beat them?"

"Yes!" She replied, tightening her grip. "I would have gladly laid down my life to keep those Thalmor out of Skyrim." Her friend didn't reply. Eira waited for a few minutes, then went back to her bed and pulled the furs over herself.

* * *

The next morning she was awakened, as usual, by some guard leaving off a tray of food and taking her bucket. What surprised her though, was the well dressed man standing in front of her cell. He was an older Nord, his face tanned from years outside. He smiled when he saw she was awake.

"Good! I was hoping you weren't asleep." He laughed.

Eira walked over to the door. "You, it was you I was talking to last night."

"Yes, Vignar Grey-Mane." He replied, sketching a slight bow. "I've got a little weight around here, so get down your breakfast and come with me." Eira wasn't quite sure, but she bolted down the bread and apple they had given her. Vignar led her past the Gildergreen, into one of the houses that made up the city's residential section. An older woman, and a large man sat in front of the fire, warming their hands. Eira joined them.

"Thank you, for your hospitality." She said. "I think I would have gone mad if I was stuck in that prison anymore."

"You only had one more day on your sentence, nothing to bad." Vignar shrugged.

The other man looked up. "Did you sleep off your drink?"

"Yes, Avulstein, I did." He snapped. "Although I don't know how that Imperial got out of it, especially when she and Farkas started jousting with stool tops and chair legs." He stopped speaking when he saw the shocked faces of his family. "Anyway, I think I made an ally for us."

"Her?" Avulstein snorted. "She's a sellsword."

Eira growled. "I am a Stormcloak!"

"And she can help us relay information to Ulfric." Vignar placed a placating hand on Avulstein's shoulder. "Get around the Imperial patrols around Whiterun." Avulstein only grunted in response. "So, my Stormcloak friend, will you do it?"

"Sure, there's not much else I can do at this point."


End file.
